


Obsession Of An Ex-Boy-King

by lanipalmer03



Category: Red Queen Series - Victoria Aveyard
Genre: Drabble, Multi, Sad, also really short, big sad, hey look first post, spoilers for war storm if you havent read it yet, this is old please dont kill me
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-26
Updated: 2019-05-26
Packaged: 2020-03-17 17:29:03
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 428
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18969727
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lanipalmer03/pseuds/lanipalmer03
Summary: Isolation gives you plenty of time to think.Maven has too many thoughts.





	Obsession Of An Ex-Boy-King

**Author's Note:**

  * For [almightylesbian](https://archiveofourown.org/users/almightylesbian/gifts).



The sound of his mother’s voice was quieter, at least.

Maven sat in the middle of his cell, idly tracing along the cracks on the floor, feeling every tiny bump and imperfection there was. It was the only thing he could think to do to keep his hands occupied while his mind drifted off.

He’d lost. Again. To that stupid perfect brother of his. He distantly wondered if he’d feel the same if his mother hadn’t removed any and all feelings other than resentment towards him from his head. He lost his kingdom, he lost Mare, and he knew deep in his heart that there was no way he’d get them back.  
There was no way he’d get him back.

Maven scrubbed at his eyes, rubbing away the feeling of tears pricking them that seemed to come much more often these days. There was no use thinking about Thomas, no use thinking of things he could have done better. He had to think of what he could do now, how he could win. 

He stood quickly, gently feeling his wrists, still not at all used to the feeling of his flamemakers gone. Not that they’d be of any use in this silent stone-lined cell, but they were a comfort, at least.

Pacing. Pacing, pacing pacing. It was the only other thing he could do rather than sleep the days away. Though, pacing tended to bring on thoughts. Many thoughts. He ignored the tightness of his throat and how his breathing started to falter, almost running at the opposite wall and slamming his fist against it. He relished in the pain, in the silver blood dripping down his knuckles and now staining the wall. It was constant. Pain never changed. His blood never changed. They were two things he could always be sure of. Nothing could take that away from him. Not even Elara.

Tears streamed down his face as he sank to the floor and cried. He didn’t even care that the guards outside could see and hear everything - he let himself bawl, sobs wracking his body and spilling out of him like water escaping a broken dam.

How he wished she was here, as manipulative and controlling as she was. She knew what to do, she could guide him. She’d know what to do now. He could barely hear her voice now, the silent stone smothering out any trace of her and yet not managing to repair any of the damage she’d done.

He wished he’d died with her.  
Then, at least, he wouldn’t feel so alone.

**Author's Note:**

> thanks 2 viv for yelling at me to post this  
> i have regrets  
> i made myself sad writing it


End file.
